


Rey in the Underworld

by inthegrayworld



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Death, F/M, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthegrayworld/pseuds/inthegrayworld
Summary: There is a story of a bard who lost his wife and journeyed into the Underworld to bargain with the king of the dead for her soul. The bard failed.Rey, on the other hand, does not intend on failing.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27
Collections: To Rapture the Earth and the Seas: the 2020 Reylo Fanfiction Anthology





	Rey in the Underworld

There is a story of a man, a bard, who lost his beloved when she was bitten by a poisonous snake the night they got married. Instead of moving on with his life, the man found his way to the Outer Rim world of Teleute, a marsh planet marred by sinkholes. One of the sinkholes, the story goes, was the mouth of the underworld. The man journeyed deep beneath the earth to bargain with the king of the dead for his wife’s soul. The king of the dead bade him to return to the land of the living and his wife’s soul would follow him—but if he turned around to look at her before leaving the borders of the underworld, he would lose her forever.

Rey first heard the story sung drunkenly at Maz’s new watering hole, had read about a dozen different versions in the archives on Coruscant, and spotted references to it in the old Jedi texts. It always ended the same way - somewhere on the path back towards the land of the living, the man would turn around, and his beloved’s soul would be banished back to the underworld.

But she chose not to focus on this. Instead, she fostered in herself the certainty (or at least what she hoped was a convincing enough illusion of certainty) that there would be something for her on Teleute, for she too had lost her beloved.

  
  


_ i _

_ The Door _

All across the marsh were open holes in the soft earth. She had investigated most of them over the last three weeks, the last two of which were marked by incessant rain and bog stink. Each hole differed in diameter, depth, soil quality, water immersion, and mineral content. Some were the size of manholes Rey could easily imagine hopping into, like a Lothcat hopping into its den. Others were so large, they could have easily enveloped the Millennium Falcon. Further off, there sinkholes were so massive that they had filled up with swamp spillage and turned into lakes. She meditated, took samples, and consulted with her friends across the galaxy. Her primary finding was that, yes, there were a lot of holes in the ground.

“What am I doing?” she asked herself, hood covering her eyes and filling fast with rain.

To be fair, none of her friends had tried talking her out of it, although Finn had squeezed her hand and asked her over and over again if this was what she wanted to do. Rose had hidden her concern behind a checklist - had the Falcon’s overdrive been recalibrated, did Rey have enough rations, had she memorised the New Republic’s SOS codes? Poe had shrugged and said with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes that he knew better than to try and stop her. They had all seen what had happened to her after the last of the First Order had been destroyed or surrendered. After the Resistance had well and fully relaxed into the notion that they had won. They had seen what happened instead, when she should have been celebrating their victory, when she should have been happy. 

What  _ was _ she doing?

The sun was setting. Inside her little field tent on the hilltop, she had caf brewing in the corner, and a plate of half-eaten bread balanced on her crossed legs. Her ‘saber lay disassembled on a rag at her feet, the golden kyber crystal shining like a candle, catching the light from the nearby glow globe.

She made the mistake of staring at the glinting crystal for a bit too long. When she blinked, golden ghosts floated behind her eyelids, and among the amorphous shapes, she imagined a man.

She felt a sudden tightness in her stomach, the one that always seemed to accompany her when she returned to her memories of Exegol - of Palpatine, her grandfather, more corpse than man, held aloft on a mechanical arm, cackling. Of the sublime rage and power that had coursed through her as she had vanquished him, with Luke’s saber in one hand, and Leia’s in the other. Of blacking out, until a touch had awakened her. A voice, a face had floated into her vision. A man. A man she knew. He’s not wearing the mask, she thought. He had smiled, and they—

The tightness grew into a vice, and Rey doubled over. The plate fell to the canvas floor, and she had to catch herself from heaving.

It was like being caught in an undertow, scrambling wildly for purchase and finding none. There had been a time when she could hide it, could tuck it away until she was alone, when she could cry in peace, but its grip had grown stronger. It had welled up, had followed her, waking or sleeping, had found itself in every word she said, in every bolt she tightened, in every swing of her saber. It felt like something inside her had collapsed, leaving nothing but an emptiness, like the sinkholes outside. There was nothing left where he had been. He was gone.

_ He’s gone.  _

She had been here before. Wracking sobs burst from her chest. She clutched at the canvas floor, eyes hot. Salty wetness streamed from her eyes, her nose, leaving her throat thick, as she tried to catch her breath.

_ He’s gone. _

There were nights like this, when the emptiness inside her grew unbearable. When it felt that her entire being had been stretched out into a single drawn-out wail.

_ He’s gone. _

The noises she made shamed her. She sounded like a child, still crying for her parents in the husk of an old AT-AT. But when she tried to suppress them, they bubbled up anew, and she found herself curled up on the floor. She could lay that way and felt like she would never rise up again, calling his name and knowing he would not answer.

_ No. _

Her grip on the canvas was hurting her fingers, so she forced herself to let go. This part was always difficult.  _ No _ , she thought again, even if it meant powering against the tide. Hands still trembling, tears still streaming freely from her eyes, she sat upright.

_No._ _Or at least, maybe not._

The kyber crystal’s glint caught her eye again. Its warmth was a small comfort.

Rey inhaled deeply, eyes settling on the crystal before fluttering shut, the tears trickling down to her chin.

She reached out with the Force. She had done this any number of times before, but it was interesting to enter meditation with the kyber as a focus. She willed her mind to be quiet, to be calm, so she could reach out, to the grass beneath the tent, to the trees that hunkered over the marsh on raised roots, to the warmth that seemed to rise out of the sinkholes.

_ Are you out there?  _

Once upon a time, her thoughts had found his across the galaxy’s expanse, when she was on Ahch-To, and he was on the Supremacy. Across lightyears, she had stretched her hand out to his, and he had reached back—

And on Exegol she awoke to find him holding her.

_ Ben. _

Something came through the Force, like a crack of thunder, that jolted her awake.

She knew what would happen a second before it did, so she crouched safely on the floor when the tremors struck, rocking the hill and threatening to topple the tent over. The quake lasted a full five minutes.

Rey emerged to the screeching of night birds and swamp beasts. But even in the half light of Teleute’s rising moon, she could see the massive sinkhole that had opened up at the base of the hill, wide, perfectly ring-shaped, and dark, like a mouth screaming at the sky.

_ ii _

_ The Stairway _

The ground under her feet was steady enough. Rey made her way to the edge of the sinkhole, tugging her cloak tight around her. Her ‘saber hung at her hip.

She didn’t need the Falcon’s sensors to tell her that there was something different about this sinkhole. Just being near it made her arm hair prickle up.

Along the inner edge of the sinkhole were lines of earth that Rey had initially thought to be rough ledges left behind when the ground fell inwards. But the closer she got, the more they began to take shape.

This was no ordinary sinkhole.

Around the sinkhole’s inner edge was a stairway that looked to Rey as though it had been dug right into the soil, and then left there for hundreds of years. The stairway went around the perimeter of the sinkhole, spiralling deep into the earth.

From where Rey stood at the edge, the stair led deeper into darkness. There was no telling how deep the hole went. 

Well, there was one way to find out.

The moment she set foot on the stairway, a strange sense came over her, like someone had thrown a veil over her head so the chatter of swamp bugs and the drumming of rain abruptly disappeared. It was still cold on the stairway, but arid. 

Rey began her descent.

She walked,

and walked,

and walked, tracing the inner edge of the sinkhole. Above, the sky had fallen well and truly into night. As she went deeper into darkness, Rey drew her lightsaber and ignited it. With a sizzle, gold light flooded the patch of stairway around her.

Rey realized that the steps had grown broader beneath her feet, although she wasn’t sure when that had happened. She also saw, upon looking up, that it wasn’t just the staircase spiraling above her. Other structures protruded from the walls around her, cliff faces and ledges of which Rey had no memory either. She began to feel less like she was in a sinkhole, and more like she was in an ancient city, with blocky walkways and jutting buildings that stretched up and down and around her. She was fairly certain the bridges that spanned the drop were not there before either.

She didn’t know how long she had been walking when she encountered people. At least they looked like people. At first, it was just one or two of them, drifting down the stairs across the drop. She had to pause to make sure she was actually seeing them. But the deeper she went, more appeared, quietly passing across the walkways.

Rey saw Stormtrooper armor, civilian garb, aristocratic finery, scum digs. They were human, and Twi’lek, and Ugnaught, and every other species she had ever encountered, and some she never had.

A man in a Rebel pilot jumpsuit drifted past her shoulder. Rey nearly jumped when his shoulder brushed hers, going right through it.

There were more and more ghosts the further she descended. But where they were going, or if they were simply waiting, littered along the stairs, she couldn’t tell.

“Rey.” A woman’s voice pierced through the crowd.

She knew that voice.

The memory broke through the tense guardedness that had followed Rey on the way down, making her forget for a moment what her mission was.

“Well, well, it is Rey.” A man’s voice, equally familiar.

Rey turned to find them standing under an awning carved into the rock. The tears were already stinging her eyes.

“Mother,” she mumbled. “Father.”

She walked towards them in a daze. She had last seen them boarding the ship that had disappeared into the Jakku sky, learning the truth of their fate so many years later. And now they were just--right there.

“Darling,” her mother said. “We love you.” Those words, clear as crystal, as she had always imagined them, rushed to fill the space between them. “We have always loved you.”

“I love you too,” Rey said.

She reached out to embrace them, but her arms went through theirs. It was like passing her hands through mist.

“We know why you’re here,” her mother said, both gentle and stern, as Rey somehow remembered her from her oldest memories. “There’s not a lot of living beings who can even find the door. Your connection to that boy is strong.”

Rey found her face heating. This was not a conversation she ever expected to have with her parents.

“There is no easy way back out of the land of the dead,” her mother said, chidingly. “Are you sure he’s worth the trouble?”

Her father grew grave. “You know who he is, what he’s done. Are you sure you would bring him back with you?”

The certainty was as a lump of kyber in Rey’s soul. “Yes.”

“Why are you doing this, my darling?” her mother asked. “It will only grow more dangerous from here.”

Rey paused. “He died for me. I owe him.”

Her father’s grave expression broke. He started to chuckle. “You’re breaking the laws of life and death because you owe a guy?”

Her mother elbowed him in the ribs. “Well, obviously it’s much more than that. Come now, we’re embarrassing her.”

Rey’s mother gave her a cheeky smile. “I should have known that if you were going to fall in love, it was going to be with someone who was going to give you a lot of trouble. You really are my daughter.”

Her father feigned a look of mild hurt. “Hey now, I didn’t give you that much trouble.”

“You got me killed.”

He sighed, deeply. But she gave him a pat on the back. “At least I died beside you. In that, I have no regret.”

“What I do regret,” she said, turning to Rey, “Was leaving my girl alone.”

“I was alone, for a long time. But—“ She paused, thinking of her friends in the land of the living. And then she remembered his fingertips against hers. The thrum of him through the Force - the way she passed her lightsaber to him had been almost second nature, as though it were something they had done a hundred times before. 

“I’m not alone anymore.”

Her mother gave her a sad smile, leaned into her father’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Then you must know,” her father said, “The person you’re looking for is here, but much, much further below. Getting to him will not be easy.”

“And the person you’re not looking for is also here,” her mother said. “You know who I’m talking about.”

Briefly, Rey remembered her grandfather, and the searing lightning that erupted from his hands. Despite herself, she shuddered.

“It won’t be easy,” her mother said. “But—“ she reached out, and Rey imagined ghostly fingertips touching her cheek. “If anyone can do it, you can.”

As Rey went to touch her mother’s hand, she saw they had begun to fade, like afterimages of light, melting away whenever she blinked.

“Farewell, darling,” her mother said. “Until we meet again.”

  
  


_ iii _

_ The River _

Rey didn’t know how long the descent continued. It could have been hours, or days, or weeks. Her legs were tired, but she willed herself forward. She suspected that that was more important, in a place like this - your will. 

_ He’s down here somewhere _ , Rey told herself, even if any certainty she felt was paper thin, and underneath it was the gaping emptiness that his absence had left behind. It would be easy to fall into that abyss, even now.  _ No, _ Rey thought.  _ I have to find him. _

The stairs ended in a flat platform that led off into fog, and the sound of gently lapping water. It felt to Rey that she was in a vast cavern, although the fog was like a curtain that obscured even the stairs she had descended.

At the end of the dock was a skiff, of the sort that Rey had seen on Naboo, which the locals used to ferry riders across the water. The ferryman leaned against the bow. He wore silver Mandalorian armor, with blue highlights on the t-shaped frame of his helmet. He looked up as Rey approached.

“Oh look, a breather. Haven’t seen your type in a long, long time.”

He leaned against the skiff’s engine. It was a casual pose, but Rey had fought enough warriors to recognize when someone was purposely trying to put her off her guard.

“I’m just passing through,” Rey said.

“Passing through? It’s life you’re passing through. Everyone ends up here.”

“That’s true. But I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh? Target acquisition, is it? You bringing ‘em in warm or cold?” He laughed a harsh, grating kind of laugh. “Tell you what, you give me the skinny on who you’re after. And make it good. I haven’t heard a good story in years. If I like it, I might even take you down the river.”

“He’s a…” She had to stop and think. “Once upon a time, he was a Jedi.”

The ferryman groaned behind his helmet. “Jedi scum. I hate this story already.”

“Then he fell to the Dark Side.”

The ferryman huffed. “Go on.”

“He became something else. A horror in a mask. We were enemies. He abducted me, so I tried to kill him.”

“Clearly, you didn’t succeed,” the ferryman said.

“It was war. I was determined to become a Jedi myself, and to take him down. But somewhere along the way, something happened. We made a connection.”

The ferryman had suddenly gone very still, observing her intently.

“I never thought I could feel the way I did, for anyone. Definitely not for him. But I came to know him, and he came to know me. And then I didn’t want to kill him anymore, I wanted him to come back. To come home. He did, eventually. For a little while.” She blinked, briefly saw Ben’s face, the way he had looked at her when he had appeared at her side, saber in hand. 

“And then,” her voice wavered, she couldn’t help it. “He died.”

“So he was a goner long before you. Why do this then? Plenty of breathers for you to fall in love with.”

“I still want him to come back,” Rey said. “Besides, he left an awful lot of fires burning in the galaxy. It’s just right he helps put them out.”

“Huh,” The ferryman stretched. “There’s always a fire in the bloody galaxy. That’s just the way it is.”

Rey realized he was gesturing for her to get in the skiff.

He started up the engine and the skiff began slipping down the gray river.

“You don’t look like a ferryman,” Rey said.

“Oh? What do I look like?”

“Bounty hunter,” Rey said without hesitation.

He chortled. “Once upon a time, in another life. Bringing people down the river isn’t a bad gig,” he said. “You meet ‘em all. Jedi scum. Senators. Princesses. Imperial moffs. And I get to meet all my boys.”

“Your boys?”

“I had a million of them. Good boys, who did their job. They were all born with a serial number, but they were smart, so they came up with names all of their own. And each and every one of them had my face.”

“I wasn’t much of a parent,” he continued. “But it’s nice to hear their stories when they wind up here. Sure, most of their stories are about missions and whether or not they succeeded, but those are always the best stories. So I figure I’ll stay here ‘til they all come home,” the ferryman said, his gauntleted hand on the rudder. He guided the skiff through the river’s gentle slosh, leading deeper and deeper into mist. “There’s one last boy who needs to make his way here. The boy who’s most like me. Not a surprise that he’s lasted the longest.” There was genuine pride in his voice. “I’ll wait for him, then we’ll take our last ride together.”

It wasn’t long until they bumped up against a shore of pure white sand.

“Follow that path,” the ferryman said. “And you’ll get to where you need to go.”

“Thank you,” Rey said. “I hope you meet your last son soon. But not that soon.”

The ferryman raised a hand in farewell. “Eyes on the target,” he said, and the skiff floated back up the way.

  
  


_ iv _

_ The Gate _

The white shore stretched out under an inky sky. 

No, she thought. Not a sky. It felt more like the blanket of deep space, bereft of stars, stretching up and beyond the white path. Beneath it, the path was a bright, sinuous pavement of light that Rey saw, to no surprise, led to a gate.

The gate was a ring of light floating just above the path. There was a moment of hesitation in her heart, but she set it aside. She stepped through--

\--and walked out into a realm of white paths and white gates, floating in the starless void.

Rey paused, looking above and below, watching paths that stretched and wound their way to any of a thousand gates, as far as she could see.

“Better than stairs,” she muttered.

He was around here somewhere, of that she was sure. She could feel it, like a tug at the end of a string. But there were so many walkways, and so many gates. There was no way she’d be able to find him if she had a hundred years to spare.

“Hello there,” someone said, from behind her.

He had a kind face, but there were lines at his brow that spoke of having lived through trying times, and she could imagine them growing deeper with age. She realized, with a sudden thrill, that he was in a Jedi Knight’s robes.

“Hi,” she said, suddenly feeling awkward. “Um, I’m—“

“I know who you are, Rey,” he said, with a good-natured sigh. “We’ve spoken before. Well, you were asking for help, to vanquish the Emperor. And those of us who heard whispered back to you.”

The Jedi voices seemed to drift down from the stars, Rey remembered. “Who are you?”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi is my name. But Luke and Leia called me ‘Ben’.”

Rey’s breath caught in her throat. “Will you help me, Ben?”

“It seems that it is my curse to help the Skywalkers, even beyond death,” he said.

He led her down one of the winding paths. They all looked the same to Rey, but Obi-Wan went left or right, up or down, with confidence. In her heart, Rey felt the tug grow stronger.

“We’re getting close,” she said.

“We are,” he agreed. “You are walking a path that only a handful of people have ever found, and fewer still have found their way back. You risk a lot just by being here.”

“So I’ve been told,” Rey said. She felt suspiciously like she was being chided by a teacher.

“I sense your determination, but action without wisdom will only lead to regret,” Obi-Wan said.

“If I do nothing, I’ll regret it anyway,” Rey said.

That made Obi-Wan stroke his beard in contemplation.

“Why are you doing this, Rey?” Obi-Wan asked. “It flies in the face of common sense. I would know,” he added with a grimace. “I have witnessed this sort of thing many times before.”

“I do this because I have to,” Rey said.

“Attachment is not the Jedi way.”

“I guess I’m not a very good Jedi,” Rey said. “Have you never felt something so strongly that you couldn’t help but hold on to it, despite all logic, reason, and good sense?”

A strange distant look settled on Obi-Wan’s face. 

“Long ago,” he said, “there was a woman. If she had said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order. But she knew that I would, so she decided to keep the truth of her feelings from me.”

“What happened?” Rey asked, surprised.

“She died in my arms.”

Rey turned away, feeling the tide well up within her. It took all her strength to let it subside. “I know the feeling, exactly.”

At the corner of her eye, she saw Obi-Wan giving her a sad smile. “You do, don’t you?”

They walked until they came upon a path that didn’t shine as brilliantly as the others. It was as though shadows had unfurled inside the light that made up the path, creating black patterns and whorls that grew deeper and more complex beneath their feet. There was a distinct chill in the air, deeper than the cold Rey had felt when she went down into the sinkhole. This one was an iciness that stroked the worst fears that sat at the back of her head - that this mission was folly. That she would be destined to fail.

“The Dark Side is stronger here,” Obi-wan said. “Far stronger. Your enemy awaits within. He has the one you’re looking for, but won’t give him up easily.”

Rey squared her shoulders. “I’ve defeated Palpatine before.”

“But this is a different realm,” Obi-wan said. “Remember, you can’t kill him this time. You must steel yourself.”

Rey remembered what it was like to face Kylo Ren, in Starkiller’s forest, in the Supremacy’s throne room, atop the Death Star’s wreckage. The Dark Side was a typhoon around him, blistering with anger and fear. But even then she felt the smallest pinprick of Light - something that felt like hope. She felt it swell whenever she met him.

She clung to that tiny blossom of hope. It was why she had chosen to save him, even after running him through with her lightsaber. When he met her on Exogol, it wasn’t that the Darkness had disappeared. But the Light that shone from him had been so bright, it had seemed to linger, even after his body had disappeared.

Rey clung to the Light now. “I’m not afraid,” she said.

The path ended at a gate that was encircled with corrupted symbols, glowing red. Rey recognized them as Sith runes.

“This is where I leave you,” Obi-wan said.

“Thank you,” Rey said, turning to him.

He reached out his hand, and she clasped it. His hand was warm, like he was very much alive.

“May the Force be with you, Rey,” he said. “Until we meet again.”

  
  


_ v _

_ The Bargain _

Past the gate, the floor was stone. The walls were the darkest basalt, etched with more runes that seared themselves into Rey’s vision with a livid light. She didn’t see anyone else around her, but she knew that she wasn’t alone. There was a roiling in the darkness around her, making her think of souls in torment. Her hand automatically went to her ‘saber’s hilt.

The throne sat on a dais, its back to her. As she approached, there was a deep grating of stone against stone. The throne slowly turned on the dais, so she could see the figure nestled in it, deep in a black cowl.

His voice was just as she remembered, like rusty hinges, making the hairs at the back of her neck stand on end.

“Granddaughter,” he said.

She forced herself to look at him, straight into those sickly yellow eyes.

“Grandfather,” she said. “Give him back to me.”

He cackled, a strange light coming to those eyes.

“You have journeyed long and hard, and for what? That whelp? Oh, he had potential, I’ll give you that. Such a glorious fit for the Dark Side. Snoke did his work well enough. Kylo Ren may have saved you in the end, granddaughter, but that single act of sacrifice did not save him.”

He made a face of disgust. “Such reckless stupidity. He truly is of Vader’s bloodline.”

“Give him back,” Rey repeated.

“Why should I?” Palpatine rose from his seat. Rey noticed, with a stab of worry that he was standing upright, and a discomfiting blue glimmer had begun to spark at his fingertips.

Rey found herself sliding into attack stance, the saber tight in her hands.

“Why waste your time?” he snarled.

“Because I love him,” Rey said.

The answer visibly angered him. The runes around the chamber burned red hot, and the noise that rose up from Palpatine’s throat could not have come from any living creature in the galaxy.

“Of course, you consign yourself to weakness,” he spat. “Why did I ever deign to pass my power on to you? I gave you the opportunity to become something, but you turned it down because you are a witless girl, without worth or vision. You are a disappointment.”

“And you’re dead,” Rey said.

From the depths of his cowl, he smiled, making the lines that crossed his face deepen hideously.

“I may be dead, but we are in the land of the dead. Did you believe you could cross into my domain, and leave as you wished?”

He threw his hands up. Lightning exploded from his fingertips, in a jagged stream straight towards Rey. She just had time to get her ‘saber up, the golden beam shielding her from the onslaught.

Her arms rattled with the effort of pushing against the stream. Even then, electric blue tendrils coursed up her limbs, making her flesh burn. With a cry, she broke the lock, staggering back as the air grew thick with the stink of ozone.

“And that,” Palpatine said. “Is the least of what I can do. This is my Empire, girl. Now, and always.”

As he spoke, Rey looked down at her ‘saber. There was a strange tremble around the blade. In her hand, it was like the beam was struggling through some invisible viscousness in the air.

Rey momentarily lost herself in the ‘saber’s light. If she concentrated, she could hear a whisper near her ear, as she heard the Jedi whisper the last time she had faced her grandfather.

“Girl?” Palpatine had noticed that she was no longer paying attention to him. “What foolishness are you up to now?”

Rey swung the ‘saber in a full arc. It felt like cutting through jelly. But in the blade’s wake, there was a crackling in the air, a white beam suspended in the shadows.

“No!” Palpatine’s face contorted in fury. “No! No!”

Rey swung the ‘saber again, in the exact same place. The splinter of light hanging in the space right before her widened, like a slice in a piece of cloth being pulled apart.

It wasn’t exactly a gate; it was far too crude. But light shone through, and in that light, a figure emerged.

“Enough,” he said. His voice had the weariness of old age, but he looked younger than Rey with a mop of blonde hair, and an unkempt suit.

“Master Luke,” Rey breathed.

Luke nodded his head in Palpatine’s direction. “This guy’s a real pain in the neck, isn’t he?”

A second figure emerged from the torn air. She was in a white dress, with her hair up in coils, but it was a general’s voice that firmly said, “This guy’s an asshole.”

Rey couldn’t keep from smiling. “ Leia.”

Leia crossed her arms, planting herself in front of Rey. “Let my son go, you wrinkled ballsack.”

Palpatine let loose an inhuman scream. Lightning shot down from above, thick pillars of energy that made the ground quake. But between Leia and Luke, Rey noticed that none of the lightning seemed to even come close to where they stood.

“She made the journey,” Luke said. “You have to let him go.”

“I make the rules here,” Palpatine seethed. “No one leaves.”

There was a glimmer as a third figure passed through the makeshift gate. Rey had no idea who he was, but he was tall, a prominent scar over one eye. Like Obi-Wan, he was dressed as a Jedi.

“Enough, Chancellor.”

“Emperor,” Palpatine spat.

The man shrugged. “Whatever. You can’t deny her his soul.”

“I can do whatever I please.”

The man lifted an eyebrow. It was such a small motion, but the charge in the air around him changed. There was a pulsing around them, that Rey recognized as the beat of the Force, but she’d never felt it this strongly, at least not around a living being.

“You want to test that?” the man asked.

Palpatine faltered. His hands were still outstretched, but there was something else on his face now, facing the three ghosts who had walked in through the door of light. Fear.

Rey felt a storm rolling overhead. To her eyes, the people around her still looked human, but they were beings purely of the Force. She bowed her head. It seemed respectful, given the unseen turbulence that raged all around her. It was an ancient battle, one she played a very small part in.

“Fine,” Palpatine finally said, hands dropping to his side. “But there are conditions.”

“There always are,” Luke said.

Palpatine slumped back down on his throne, livid with anger, but silent.

Luke turned back towards the makeshift gate, but he paused in front of Rey.

“You seem to be doing well for yourself.” He tried to say it seriously but there was delight on his face. “I’m proud of you.”

“Will I see you again, Master Skywalker?” Rey asked. 

“I wouldn’t at all be surprised,” he said, winking as he disappeared past the door, into a place filled with so much light, Rey had to look away.

Leia stood before her.

“Leia—“

“Don’t,” Leia raised a finger. “Don’t thank me. We help one another. It’s what we do, even in this place.”

When she smiled, it was as Rey remembered, the gentle smile that tempered General Organa’s iron. “You were already strong when I met you. You’ve gotten stronger still. There is much you have left to do.” Leia brushed her fingers against Rey’s cheek. “Farewell, for now.”

And then Rey found herself left with the tall Jedi.

He extended a gloved hand towards her. “Anakin Skywalker,” he said.

The name clicked. But there was nothing at all about him that reminded Rey of the burned mask, or that fabled red ‘saber. This was another man entirely.

“He loves you, you know,” Anakin said. “My grandson loves you the way stars burn. He has, for a very long time. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to find him.”

Rey felt warmth blossoming in her chest. She had known, but it was different to hear it.

Anakin shifted awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. 

“I wish it had been different,” he said. “I wish I’d met you two, you know,” he made a vague gesture, “Up there. But I’m paying for what I’ve done. Just as he’ll have to.” Anakin gave her a sad shrug. “He’s too much like me. But, he does love you.”

There was something of Ben in how Anakin stood. Even in the way his lip tensed out, while he searched for his words.

“I took your name,” Rey said to Anakin.

“‘Skywalker?’” Anakin laughed. “Skywalker was my mother’s name. She was a slave who made a living in the dirt. But you’d never meet a brighter, more hopeful woman.” He nodded. “She would have been happy for you to take the name. You might even make something out of it.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Be well, Rey,” he said. “It’s going to be a long way back.”

As Anakin disappeared, the rip in the air sealed itself. The room grew just a bit colder.

And then Rey remembered that Palpatine was still behind her.

“Give him back,” Rey said. “Now.”

He shuddered in disgust. But he sat up on the throne and pointed a finger at her.

“The accord has been made,” he said. “But these are the terms - you may follow the path back into the land of the living. His soul will walk behind you, if that is his wish. But if you turn to look behind you before you reach the boundaries of the living, his soul returns to me. And here it will stay, for all time.”

Rey felt her blood rising. There was something he wasn’t telling her. She could feel it. He was smiling, with his teeth gnashed together.

“Now,” he hissed. “Go.”

The lights in the chamber went out, and Rey was alone in the dark.

  
  


_ vi _

_ The Tunnel _

In the dark, Rey fought the urge to panic. She ignited her ‘saber, and the golden light cast a halo around her feet, but she could no longer see the walls, could barely see the path. She had the distinct feeling that she was no longer in the throne room.

She almost spun around, to see what lay behind, but she stopped herself. The condition was clear - if she looked behind, his soul was forfeit.

Rey felt her arms tensing, her grip on the ‘saber tightening, but there was sweat on her palms. She forced her eyes ahead, although she had no way of knowing which way to go.

She kept her eyes on her ‘saber, and took a tentative step forward. If there was anyone behind her, she couldn’t hear them at all.

“Ben?” she tried.

Her voice sounded so small. The ‘saber’s light circle seemed to shrink.

“Are you behind me, Ben?” she asked.

There was no answer.

She shut her eyes and fell into the Force. In the realm of the dead, it was like plunging headlong into the ocean. And she knew his presence so well, his heartbeat in the Force. But she couldn’t find him. She reached out as far as she could, trying to find any hint that he might be nearby. But there was nothing.

Her own heart was beating frantically, but she took another step, and another.

She had told Obi-Wan that she wasn’t afraid. But now, she was. The fear had come upon her suddenly, and now it hounded every step she took. And there were things stalking her in the dark.

“Oh, you believed him, did you?”

Something brushed past her shoulder, and Rey had to use all her strength to keep still. She raised her ‘saber, trying to make sense of the gloom. Far ahead, she saw a face, briefly - a horned head, with black markings on blood-red skin. The creature laughed, and disappeared into the dark.

“My old master lies. But you already knew this. Kenobi should never have let you in.” There was a bite to how he said Kenobi’s name.

There was another flutter, from off to the side. Rey caught a glimpse of a man in a long cape, with white hair and a white beard. His voice seemed to well up from deep underground.

“Sidious makes an art of lying,” he said. “It was nothing for him to make you believe in something you already wanted. You poor, wretched girl.”

Rey bit her lip to keep from yelling at the shadows. No, she told herself. Ben was behind her. Even if she couldn’t sense him. Even if she couldn’t hear him.

“You underestimated my old apprentice,” another voice said. She could only see the glimmer of his eyes from the dark. “It is a mistake most only make once. I knew him for the serpent he was. But he knew to lower my guard before striking. Do you not see? He is toying with you.”

Rey wanted to lash out, to find the ones hiding in the dark, to force them to say they were the ones who were lying. But she couldn’t risk leaving the path.

“Ben,” her voice was barely above a whisper. She stretched her hand out behind her, without turning back. “Take my hand, Ben.”

She left her hand hanging in the air for a full minute. “Please?” 

It was the voices in the dark who answered her.

“There is no one behind you,” the horned-headed figure said, bounding into view, and just as quickly vanishing. “I see as clear as day over your shoulder. There is nothing, not even your footprints.”

“But if it pleases you to believe he’s following you back, go ahead,” the old gentleman sounded terribly unimpressed. “Imagine him walking behind you as silently as he possibly could. Why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he reassure you?”

“Because he isn’t there,” the dark figure answered. “He was never there.”

Doubt closed down around Rey’s mind like a trap. They were right - Palpatine had lied to her. This was some kind of sick joke. He just wanted to see her struggling, to make the taste of her despair all the sweeter.

No, she wrangled with herself. Palpatine couldn’t have conjured Luke, Leia, and Anakin. They had been there in the chamber with her, she had felt it. They wouldn’t lie to her, would they?

She tried to focus on the sound of her own footfalls, on the ‘saber’s hum. Anything, but the endless dark, and the cold void at her back. Around her, the shadows laughed, until their laughter faded into the distance.

The silence was worse. 

_ His soul will walk behind you, if that is his wish. _

Those were Palpatine’s words.

Rey felt dread gnawing in her stomach. If that is his wish. What if he didn’t wish to go back with her? What if Palpatine had known all this time? She had not seen him in the throne room, had not even felt his presence.

But Anakin said he loves me, she thought. It seemed like such a feeble thought now, outside of the makeshift gate’s light. Here, the shadows were thick enough to choke. Could Anakin have lied? Rey wondered. Or perhaps he was wrong. Maybe he simply spoke from his own heart, and not Ben’s.

“Ben?” Rey could feel hot tears coursing down her cheeks. “I can’t hear you. I can’t feel you.”

The doubt clouded her thoughts. It was like a physical weight, making every step more difficult to take. She found herself slowing to a halt. The only sound was her own labored breathing, and the lightsaber’s hum.

“Are you even there?” she asked, to no one. 

She remembered curling up on the floor of her tent, calling for him as she called for him now. The emptiness was impenetrable.

Anger flared up. “Why don’t you answer!?” her voice echoed up the path. “Why don’t you care? Why—“

Her voice sunk into a whimper. “Why am I doing this?” she asked herself. “Why am I here?”

She turned around.

Tears flowed down her face, even if her eyes were shut.

“It’s not for you,” she said, to the unseen silence behind her. “It’s for me. Just mourning you was destroying me.”

She didn’t reach out, because she knew there would be no one there.

She turned forward again. When she opened her eyes, her ‘saber’s light was misty in her vision.

“I had to do this,” she said again. “Whether I found you or not, I had to see it through.”

It was the longest walk Rey had ever taken.

But by and by, she began to hear the distant murmur of water. She could imagine water flowing deep underground, around her. The path began to slope upward, and Rey could feel soil sliding under her shoes.

At first she thought she was hallucinating, but the dim gray light up ahead grew clearer as she walked up towards it.

The smell of earth and rain were on her nose, growing stronger as she walked out into the light.

Life was all around her. Rain fell in a fine drizzle, pattering off the leaves of the marshland trees. Rey wasn’t sure if it was the same rain that had begun to fall when she had begun her descent, but she was now standing by the sinkhole’s edge, where she had first gone down. From somewhere far off, a night bird screeched.

She looked up at the slate gray clouds. The rain was cool on her face.

“Rey.”

His voice.

Slowly, she turned to face him.

He looked exactly as he did the last time she had seen him, hair wild, face pale, eyes clear. Except that maybe he looked more tired, as though he had come from a very, very long walk.

He held his hand out to her, and she took it, felt his warmth, his grip, his arms, his chest, his breath against her ear, while she buried her face in his neck, holding on to him like he’d disappear if she didn’t.

But when she stepped back he had not disappeared, and she knew he never would again.

They walked out into the rain, side by side.

_ end _

**Author's Note:**

> The tragedy of Orpheus is that he's always destined to fail. He will always look over his shoulder, and Eurydice will always slip back into the Underworld. I initially considered following that arc onto completion, but Rey asserted herself. I guess the nice thing about fanfiction is it's never beholden to canon - not to the canon of ancient lore, or big budget films. 
> 
> I've been writing Reylo fics since Force Awakens came out, and have surprised myself with how consistently I've churned out fics for this ship over fucking -years-. There are very few things in real life I'm that consistent over. Whenever I submitted to RFFA, or joined a fic exchange, I'd wonder if it would be for the last time, because I didn't know if I had anything left to say about this pairing, this story, that was worth the effort of writing it all down. In the case of this collection, I wondered, as I usually did, if that well had finally dried up. Because Ben had canon died, and all I wanted to say to that was 'yeh but what if she brought him back'. But I suppose that's the other nice thing about fanfiction, and the writing thereof. It's only the end if you want it to be.


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